Jill's Missing Button Ch. 1

Sally turned off the overhead light to her office and closed the door. She was in such a hurry to leave, that she almost forgot that the front door to the building where she worked had a double-keyed lock, and that it was always locked promptly every Friday at 5 p.m. It was now going on 6:30, and she could hardly wait to get home and set into motion the special plans which she had made for herself and her husband. So, she turned around and walked back up the hallway in search of Sam the janitor, who was the only one left in the building with a key to the door.

As she approached Jill's office, she noticed its light still on.

"You still here?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," said Jill, "just finishing up some work. What time is it?"

"It's almost 6:30," said Sally. "Go on home. That can wait till Monday."

"No," said Jill, "I want to finish these last few folders. No sense in letting this linger over the weekend. I won't be much longer."

"O.K.," said Sally, "but don't forget to let Sam know, so he can let you out."

"I will," said Jill. "See you Monday. Have a good weekend."

"Oh, I will," said Sally. "And I hope you do, too. Just don't forget to tell me all about it on Monday." Sally winked at Jill, but Jill just rolled her eyes, shook her head and waved her hand as if driving Sally away.

Sally, not finding Sam at the upper end of the hallway, proceeded back toward the front of the building. She found him emptying the trash at the receptionist's desk.

Jill was thumbing through a folder, when she heard Sam's voice from down the hall.

"Good night, Miss Sally," Sam said. Then she heard the clicking of the door and the jingling of the keys. She knew that now there was no one left but her and Sam, leaving her to continue uninterrupted with her review of the files before her.

It had been almost a month since Jill's divorce. So it was that, with the pain of the experience still lingering with her and the thought of an empty apartment waiting for her, she felt no need to rush out of the office so soon. Actually, it was immersing herself in her work that sustained her, that kept her from thinking about how much she missed being with a man. She had fallen out of love with her husband long before the divorce, but she could not deny that he had given her the best nights of pleasure that a woman of her sex drive could ever have. She had tried to find substitutes since, but even masturbation did not give her the same thrill anymore. She had also started to wear more daring undergarments, like a low-cut bra and lace stockings with garters instead of pantyhose, anything to make herself feel more sexy. But she had not yet met the man who could give her back the thing she was missing the most.

Jill heard a squeaking sound from down the hallway. She recognized it as that of Sam's cleaning cart. The sound grew louder as the cart approached the open door to her office. Sam stopped in front of her door and peered in.

"Yeah," said Jill, "I'm just finishing up some work. I'll be leaving shortly though."

"Alright then," said Sam. "I'll be back later to empty your trash can."

"Thank you, Sam," said Jill.

Jill turned back to the papers on her desk. The squeaking sound of the cart told her that Sam was on the move again. She was starting to get restless, and the paperwork was a long ways from completion. She stopped, took off her glasses, and rubbed her eyes to relieve the tired sensation they felt; however, the kind of rubbing she really needed would have to wait until she got home. She straightened up the papers and closed the folder. After stuffing it and the remaining folders into her briefcase, she turned out the desk lamp, picked up her purse and the briefcase and headed for the door. Seeing the cleaning cart a ways up the hallway and the light on in a nearby office told her where she could find Sam. When she entered the doorway to the office, she found Sam bent over, replacing the trash bag in the can he had just emptied.

Sam was a young black man, probably in his early thirties, she guessed. His skin color always reminded her of dark chocolate. He sported an even darker colored beard and mustache and wore a blue jumpsuit with a white T-shirt showing from behind the partly zipped-down collar. The jumpsuit fitted against his body in such a way as to reveal its lean and muscular nature.

"Sam, I'm ready to go now," said Jill. "Could you let me out?"

"Sure, Miss Jill," said Sam.

Jill walked ahead of Sam down the hallway and toward the front door. She stood to one side as Sam fitted the key into the lock. He held the door open, and out she went.

"Good night, Miss Jill," said Sam.

"Good night, Sam," Jill said over her shoulder, as she walked toward her car.

Sam continued to hold the door open, watching her walk across the parking lot. His eyes were focused on her well-rounded rear-end and the way her stockings hugged the sleek curves of her legs.

"Mmm Mm," murmured Sam to himself. "It's a shame such a pretty thing has to go to waste. That guy she was married to sure doesn't know what he's missing." Sam shook his head, then closed and re-locked the door.

Jill had seated herself in her car and had placed the key in the ignition, when a funny thought crossed her mind.

"Oh no," she said, "not Sam. Not a black man. That would be the height of desperation. But, I must admit, he doesn't look bad, for a black man."

She was about to turn the key, when it dawned on her that she had left her cell phone in the office. She would certainly need it, considering that it had already begun to turn dark outside. She took the keys from the ignition and dropped them in her purse. Taking the purse with her, she walked back to the front door of the building. When she pulled on the door, it would not open. So she knocked on its glass window, hoping Sam was not too far down the hall to hear her. Sam poked his head out of one of the office doors, and upon recognizing her, came down the hall, removing the key ring from his belt.

"Sorry, Sam," said Jill, after Sam had gotten the door open. "I left my cell phone in the office. I'll only be a minute."

"That's quite alright, Miss Jill," said Sam, holding the door open as she quickly slipped passed him. He felt her hip brush against the back of his hand. The thought of reaching out and pinching her firm buttocks crossed his mind, but he quickly restrained himself.

Jill found the phone on her desk and slipped it into her purse. Then her thoughts turned to something else: a piece of paper left on her desk earlier that day containing some guy's phone number penned in red. Jill had crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the trash can. The unmistakable handwriting on it told her that it was from Sally. Jill had not liked the way her friends and coworkers seemed to be trying to set her up with one guy or another. However, the old urges were now beginning to creep back under her skin, and she just could not shake them anymore. She looked into the trash can, but found it empty. She quickly walked back into the hallway.

"Sam," she said, spotting him coming out of the storage closet. "I threw something in my waste basket earlier that I really need now. Could you let me have the trash back to look through it for a second?"

"Well," said Sam, "I've already dropped it into my cart. Let me see if I can dig it out for you." Sam remembered that it was one of the last ones he had emptied, as well as one of the lighter ones. So he was able to quickly retrieve the bag of trash from his cart.

"Here you go, Miss Jill," he said.

"Thank you, Sam," said Jill. She tried to undo the knot tied by Sam, but it would not budge for her.

"You want me to untie that for you?" asked Sam.

"Please," said Jill.

Sam easily untied the knot in the bag and set it on the edge of the cart, so that Jill could reach into it. She had always admired how good he was with his hands. She was digging through the scraps of paper, and had her back turned toward Sam, not wanting him to see what it was she was hunting for. Sam stepped back a little to get a better look at the thing which had caught his attention earlier. He figured that, if he was ever going to get a chance, it would be now, and it would have to appear as an accidental gesture. So, stepping toward the cart as if to get something from it, he lifted his hand up and let it gently slide across one of Jill's cheeks. Jill quickly turned around and backed away, letting the bag of trash fall and spill onto the floor.

"Well," said Jill, pretending to straighten her skirt. "You'll just have to be more careful. That's the kind of thing that can get you in trouble, you know. But I'll let it go then."

She stared at the scraps of paper scattered on the floor.

"Don't worry, Miss Jill," said Sam, "I'll clean this up. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No," said Jill, "but it wasn't really that important. Never mind. I'll just forget about it and see myself out."

Jill looked at Sam suspiciously, while he was gathering up the trash from the floor. Then she turned and headed for the front door. Sam glanced up one last time to see the beauty of the thing that had almost been within his grasp. A big grin came over his face.

As Jill seated herself again in her car, she reached to pull the seat belt over her. That was when she noticed that the top of her blouse was opened. She checked it and found that its top button was missing.

"Now, how did that happen?" she asked herself. Then she sighed. "Must have been when I pulled away from him, and tore it loose." She looked down at the partly open blouse and noticed her deep cleavage showing from the low-cut bra. "I hope he didn't see that." Then the part of her that was still aching for attention turned the thought around. "And what if he did. And what if that brush of the hand was no accident." She quivered at the new thought which had been dangled before her mind by the woman in need. She uncontrollably let her hand reach down into the open blouse, down into the narrow space between her breasts. When her fingers touched the floor of the previously hidden valley, she gasped. Her other hand was on her leg, slowly moving up the thigh and pushing away the hem of the skirt, revealing the laced tops of her stockings. As it reached the bare skin of her leg, it sent a jolt flying to her crotch, between her legs, and up her right cheek. The sensation of Sam's hand brushing her buttock still lingered there liked the venomous sting of a bee, only this venom was more deliciously intoxicating.

Then, she suddenly stopped her explorations and took a deep breath, pulling her skirt back down.

"I don't believe what I'm about to do," she said. "Maybe nothing will happen, and I'll just go home and take a nice long hot bath."

When she pulled on the front door to the office building, she found that it was unlocked. Apparently, Sam had forgotten to lock it behind her, when she last left. She slowly walked along the hallway, looking at the floor. She had hoped to spot the button, retrieve it, and make her exit, before Sam reappeared. At least that way, she thought, she would avoid the whole thing and never think about it again. She bent lower, looking closer at the carpet. Just then, she sensed him behind her. She turned to face him and brushed the hair from her face. For a split second, she saw him looking down with a big grin on his face; but then, he looked up at her, and the grin faded. She smiled at him, instantly realizing where his gaze had just been.

"Um," she said, "the door was open, and, funny thing, I seem to be missing a button from my blouse. You didn't happen to see it, did you?"

"No, ma'am," said Sam. "I saw no button, while I was cleaning up."

"Well," she said, "I don't see it either. It wasn't any big deal. I mean, I can always find another button to fix this." She handled the top of her blouse, spreading it slightly. If Sam did not notice her exposed cleavage then, she thought, then he must be gay. But he was staring straight at it, with his mouth hanging wide open.

"Uh," he said, "maybe I can help you with . . . help you look for that button. I wouldn't want you going around half dressed. I mean, such a pretty woman as you, some people might think . . ."

"Think what?" asked Jill.

"Well, Miss Jill," said Sam, "you know how people are, especially guys and all. Let me help you find that button."

"No, I don't know Sam," said Jill. "What would they think?"

"Uh, well, um . . . ," said Sam, starting to get nervous.

"You think they'd think, we were fooling around in here?" asked Jill, gauging Sam's response to her queries by the bulge that was forming in the crotch of his jumpsuit.

"Uh, no Miss Jill," said Sam, laughing. "I was just saying . . ."

"What were you saying Sam?" asked Jill. "Are you saying that you and I would never fool around? I mean, it would seem inconceivable for a white woman like me, in the position that I'm in here at the office, to even consider an affair with the janitor, especially since he happens to be black. Wouldn't it?"

"Well, Miss Jill," said Sam, rubbing the back of his neck, "you know, there are some white women out there who have had affairs with other black men. I've heard of some white women who go looking specifically for a black man, when they're cruising the bars. And these are no poor women either. Some of them have more money than you and me combined."

"So, Sam," said Jill, "what would you do, if one of these women came up to you and offered you a hundred bucks to sleep with her?"

Sam began to laugh. Jill laughed too, continuing to play with the top of her blouse, spreading it wider and watching Sam's crotch; the budge there was getting larger. She wondered, how large could it be? considering his youth and the good physical shape that he was in, it must be of substantial size.

"When you touched me earlier, Sam," she said, "you did that on purpose, didn't you."

"Well, yeah," said Sam. "But no offense, Miss. It's just . . . well, I broke up with my girlfriend last week, and I've been missing it something terribly. It plays with your mind, gets you to thinking about things you wouldn't normally think about. I mean, you being divorced and all, and probably missing it yourself, I figured you wouldn't mind too much."

Sam moved closer to Jill. His eyes were fixed on her cleavage, and she made no movement to hide it from him. Then, she closed her blouse and began to laugh.

"Um, why don't we continue this conversation in my office," she said, smiling at him and running her fingers through her hair.

"Sure thing, Miss Jill," said Sam, grinning. "Lead the way."

Jill walked into the darkened office, Sam close behind her. She stopped in front of a couch that had been left there temporarily by the maintenance crew. She slipped off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. Sam reached out and ran his hand over one of her buttocks. Jill quivered and gasped at the touch. Then, with both hands, he gently squeezed both cheeks.

He stood closer to her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her against himself. He pressed his bulging crotch into her lower back, rubbing it against her, moaning, feeling the electricity surging through his loins from the pressure. She could hear his heavy breathing, as he placed his lips closer to her ear. She was undoing the cuffs of her blouse, when he reached around and cupped her breasts, lifting them and pressing them together.

Jill reached back over her shoulder with her hand and grabbed his head, feeling its curly strands with her fingers. Sam ran his hands further down and tried pushing her skirt down.

"Zipper's in the back," she said with a breathy voice.

Sam reached behind her and unzipped the skirt, letting it slide to the floor. Reaching under the tail of her blouse, he felt for the garter straps. He unsnapped these one by one, then slowly slipped her panties from her hips. He then knelt on the floor, lifted the blouse and began kissing her cheeks one at a time. She felt his large warm lips sliding over her smooth skin, setting it on fire, while his hands stroked her thighs through her stockings. She had just gotten the remaining buttons of her blouse undone, when Sam swung her around and pushed her onto the couch.

He stood up and unzipped his jumpsuit. After removing it from his shoulders and slipping it off, he stood over her. Then he removed his bikini briefs, and out popped the lowest hung dick she had ever seen. The light from the doorway revealed its largeness; it was still flaccid, so she could only imagine how big it would get when fully erect. She sat up on the couch and took hold of his cock with her hand. In her small hand, it felt as heavy as a sirloin steak, and as thick as a cucumber.

She stroked it, feeling it grow in her hands. Then she raised it higher and ran her lips and tongue along its shaft. She placed its head into her mouth and began twirling it around inside, continuing to stroke its throbbing shaft. It grew longer, forcing its way further into her mouth which was eagerly devouring it as it went. She took it out of her mouth and licked the length of its shaft two or three times.

Sam placed his hands on her head, then onto her shoulders, and gently pushed her toward the back of the couch. As she lay back, he knelt down and lifted her legs over his broad shoulders. When his lips met her crotch, she let out a moan and grabbed his head, stroking its curls as he sucked on her clit. He slipped his hands under her and began squeezing her buttocks. Then he ran them up her waist to her breasts. He tugged at the bra, trying to remove it. The fastener for it was in front, so she undid it for him. Reaching under the loose bra, he took hold of her breasts and began massaging them. She moaned louder in response to his experienced touch, placing her hands over his. She could feel his beard brushing against her pussy, creating a sensation like she had never felt before.

Sam pulled away from Jill, letting her legs slide off his shoulders, then he turned her over. Jill climbed onto the couch, kneeling on its seat cushions and leaning against its back. Sam began kissing her buttocks again, but this time spreading them wide and sucking and licking the area in between. First, his tongue played with the lips of her vagina, then it made its way to her anus, the tip of it twirling around the edges of her hole. She gripped the back of the couch harder, and let out a grunt.

Sam then climbed onto the couch and knelt behind her, pushing her against the back wall. She felt the tip of his cock probing between her legs, trying to find the opening into which to insert itself. Finally, it found its mark.

"Oh yeah," she sighed. "Oh, give it to me Sam. Oh!"

She felt its pointed head penetrate her pussy, the force of it almost lifting her off the couch. She arched her back, trying to bring the widening opening more into range. Considering the size of Sam's cock, she was sure it could reach deep enough from behind with little help from her; but she wanted to experience the whole of it, or as much as she could take in. It penetrated further and further, until she thought that it would never stop going.

Sam pulled her blouse and bra off and threw them to the side. He then stripped off his T-shirt and let it fall to the floor. He ran his hands over her shoulders and back, continuing to slowly move in and out of her, causing her to groan with each stroke. He reached around and took her breasts in his hands once more, his sweaty palms sliding over her hardened nipples.